


unzip your skin and let me have a see

by ChillCapivara



Series: some kind of wonderful [3]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Declarations Of Love, F/M, Fluff and Angst, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Racism, Working Out My Feelings Through Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 10:12:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16324265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChillCapivara/pseuds/ChillCapivara
Summary: The pain that comes with being an immigrant finally gets to Cassian after his colleague goes on a bigoted rant, but Cassian is not alone in his predicament.(This is part of a series, but can be read as a stand-alone piece)





	unzip your skin and let me have a see

Cassian did not exactly mind Draven’s company, for he was a fairly competent man whose work Cassian respected. Their academic interests were somewhat similar, and Cassian judged that that had been the sole and decisive criteria for Draven’s choice of joining him for lunch.

Cassian usually ate at the university dining hall. As a scholarship student admitted through affirmative programs, he did not have to pay for the meals. Draven, however, snorted at those simpler banquets and suggested instead that they went to the nearest cafeteria.

The dimes in Cassian’s pocket were scarce, but he figured that he could pay for some of the cheapest dishes. Buying a slightly more expensive plate for once in a month would not instantly condemn him to bankruptcy.

The cafeteria was a groovy place, with its vibrant foreign music and distinct smell of spicy sauces. Most of the people there were curly-haired students who wore coloured clothes.

The waiter delivered them their orders and Cassian resigned himself to listen to whatever Draven chose to talk about.

Cassian paid attention to the way Draven stared disdainfully at the waiter.

“Look at that”, Draven remarked, smirking. “I didn’t know white people were getting those haircuts.”

Cassian’s eyes wandered and got fixated at the man Draven was referring to.

He had dreadlocks.

“What about it?” Cassian countered a bit defiantly.

“Nothing. I just find it curious.”

Cassian shrugged and went back to eating his lunch. The food was really good. Eating well-cooked meat was a real treat.

When he looked back up from his plate again, however, he found Draven eyeing him peculiarly.

“Yes?” He tried to sound nonchalant.

“I’m not racist.”

Cassian just stood in silence. He did not want to engage Draven in such a discussion.

“Excuse me?” He finally said, giving the other man a chance of giving up on that line of speech.

Draven did not have the wisdom to shut up.

“At least not yet. I don’t have anything personal against immigrants, you know… I’m sure they’re all very nice and decent people, but I don’t think it’s right for them to come here and take our jobs. We don’t have the resources to take care of all those people on top of our own. They should fix their countries first.”

Cassian lost his appetite, leaving half of his food on his plate.

He didn’t know how to respond to that. It was just weird, and it took him a long time to really believe that the man was really saying that. It just felt surreal, like it couldn’t be real.

Did Draven not know of his origins? Could his colleague really be that insensitive and nonsensical?

Or worse, was he the issue? The thought crept up and made him very uneasy.

“I came from Oaxaca because I thought that there was no future for me there”, he tried to explain it, as if he owed a justification of his life choices to Draven simply because he was now living in that man’s country, and in his apprehension his accent got unconsciously thicker. “I would end up living as lived my parents.”

His skin was tingling and burning under Draven’s gaze, perhaps because, in the eyes of the man sitting in front of him, it was of the wrong colour.

He felt completely helpless. How could he make Draven understand?

Yes, he could have stayed in his town living the typical life that everyone around him seemed to live. Was it so wrong of him to want to make a new life for himself, was it wrong to want different opportunities and to make his dreams come true?

“Don’t get me wrong, Cassian. I think you’re a good professional, and I certainly enjoy our camaraderie. However, I’m just not sure if you belong here. It’s nothing personal.”

Draven’s words stuck with him for hours, as he inadvertently allowed them to get to him.

When he went back to his house at night, he made sure to wear a dark coat. He wanted to hide his skin away, to look like one of the people who called that land of home.

He walked in the shadows for hours on end, but one could say he had been living in the darkness since ever. The streets were oddly silent and all noise came from a language he still struggled to dominate, the faces were unknown strangers who wouldn’t waste a glance at him for anything.

He was truly invisible.

 

 

Cassian went to the supermarket, looking for the discounts publicized on the pamphlets.

It was not long before he saw the security scrutinizing him, and he was perplexed for a long moment, thinking they were mistaking him for someone else, until he put two and two together again.

The sight of the men staring at him with _disgust_ made him puzzled. He thought to himself – it hadn’t been long since he had been a child. A child whose only concerns were his homework and whether or not his neighbours would be up for a football match in the street after school. The innocence of those times still lived within him, and he became an honest man who worked hard to earn his livelihood. How could those men look at him like that, what reason did he give them, other than his pigmentation and his passport?

 

 

He missed home. He missed the people, the weather, the food, the traditions and the endless days he had lived through. He loved the past, and it was hard to put it behind him, but he had immigrated in search of a future. The past was and old and coloured clothing that didn't fit him anymore.

 

 

He met Jyn by chance, when she was snowed under books in the library, her hair tied up in a bun that made her face seem harder than it really was. The whole issue with Shara and mid-term stress were taking their toll on her, but Cassian liked to believe that he was helping in that sense. He knew that she still felt some kind of guilt for getting together with him after learning of Shara's affections, but he did his best to make her feel good about their relationship, just as much as he did his best to try to help her in academic topics. 

Jyn sometimes shied away from his gaze, blushing furiously and avoiding his eyes, but it was all to no avail. He was already too far gone to be deterred by her insecurities.

“Hello”, he greeted her, sitting down in front of her. “What are you doing?”

Jyn took her eyes off the textbook for a moment, and all hardness was gone when she looked at him. She could make a grown man cry when she was in a bad mood, but right now she was just timid.

“I’m trying and failing at studying.”

Jyn bit the tip of her pen, which made Cassian look at her lips and her teeth.

Cassian smiled wistfully. “You could try and succeed at having lunch with me, then.”

Jyn’s face beamed at his invitation, and he was glad to see how happy he could make her with just a simple suggestion.  

“Okay”, she agreed, moving to collect her papers while he grabbed the keys to her locker and fetched her backpack.

During lunch, he was silent like always, but, this time, Jyn thought that there was something else hidden in that silence.

“A penny for your thoughts”, she suggested, eyeing him curiously.

He chuckled fondly.

“It’s nothing”, Cassian said, and, after a beat, changed his mind. “Does it bother you that people stare at us when I hold your hand?”

Jyn stared back at him, puzzled.

“Do people stare?”

“A little, yes.”

“Oh. I hadn’t noticed.”

It made sense that she hadn’t noticed. Perhaps people weren’t staring at all. Perhaps Draven’s words had made him a little too sensitive.

“Why would they stare, though?” Jyn countered, quizzically.

Cassian gulped.

That was an uncomfortable subject.

“Because… because… we don’t look very similar, do we?”

“I don’t know, Cassian. We both have two eyes, a nose, lips and ears… those are real similarities, I think.”

“You know what I’m talking about, Jyn.”

Jyn carefully considered what Cassian had said, measuring her words tactfully.

“Yeah, I know. I wish I didn’t know, but I do. And yet, what can we do about it? Let people stare, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s their problem, not ours.”

Cassian nodded, trying to take her words into his heart.

He knew he was being irrational, but shame came more easily to him than pride.

At least he could distract himself with other things.

Like himself, Jyn wasn’t very talkative, and still, they could talk to each other for hours without feeling tired or overwhelmed. He was aware of the storm she carried inside her, of the loneliness and abandonment she was subjected to, and he found that he could relate. The difference between them was that Jyn was a closeted believer, whereas he had lost faith in most things, including himself.

(But Cassian found that he believed in her.)

 

 

Cassian knew that Jyn loved him, and the feeling was mutual, but he also knew that she didn’t always have the courage to let him love her. It wasn’t exactly because of him, he knew. The thing was, Jyn had lost far too many people throughout her life, and so allowing herself to give in wasn’t easy, but he slowly and caringly torn down her walls.

He hadn’t expected that she would come to do the same for him, though. (It went both ways.)

 

 

He couldn’t resist inviting her to his flat, and she accepted it once more.

He moved around the stove, frying eggs and quesadillas, warming milk in order to mix it with coffee. When he stole a glance or two at her, he saw Jyn perching herself on his little chair, trying to learn some equation written on her textbook. It was an endearing sight, and he liked the intimacy of being used to her everyday presence in his place.

Jyn still stared at him, pensively, and then she started to scribble words in a piece of paper. Cassian didn’t pry, but when Jyn left, long after they had kissed by the lampshade, she gave the paper to him.

 

_You are purple when you wake up_

_Blue when you are silent_

_Red when you tell me you love me._

_These are all the colours that you need_

_And all the colours that I see._

_Te quiero._

 

Cassian sat down, reread the words again and again, and felt a couple of tears streaming down his face, so he carefully folded the paper to prevent it from getting wet and guarded it inside his drawer, where he kept everything that was precious to him.

 

 

There was no way of ignoring how the world reacted to him, and there would always be hurt when it came to that, but at the end of the day, that form of violence was an expression of the world’s limitations. They didn’t have the capacity of being bigger than that. He had.

He would be forever grateful to Jyn. In her own little way she had taught him to answer ignorance with knowledge, fear with courage, shame with pride and prejudice with resistance.

When Jyn fell asleep on his bed, Cassian stroked her hair and kissed her forehead. They had come a long way, and there were still many miles ahead, but he promised to himself that he would always remember her like this.

She became the most important person in his life, and he loved her with all his heart, without shame or reservations.

 

 

_“Por favor, necesito llegar al edificio de ingeniería de producción, me puedes decir dónde queda?”_

Cassian saw his colleagues looking at the foreign man in a weird way, but paid them no mind.

 _“A la izquierda”,_ Cassian answered the man, much to the stranger’s relief.

_“Gracias.”_

Cassian smiled quietly.

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from the song "Human", by Dodie (she must be protected at all costs)  
> "The past is an old and coloured clothing that doesn't fit us anymore" comes from the Brazilian song "Velha Roupa Colorida", written by Belchior and famously covered by Elis Regina 
> 
> So. I was originally going to focus this piece on Jyn's pov, but then a colleague of mine pretty much said to me what Draven said to Cassian in the beginning of the story, and although I am not an immigrant living in the USA like Cassian, I moved from a state of my country to another one in search of an education, and hearing that I was to blame for the lack of employment in my current state was... well, I was astounded more than anything else, and then I was ashamed. The conflicted feelings caused me to actually talk to other people who have had similar experiences, and then I thought of Cassian and what his accent represents to many people. This work was not meant to address every aspect of racism in American society (as we all know, the issue goes way deeper), as my goal was to deal with this very hurtful topic in a sensitive way, to expose what it feels like to hear "everyday racism" when you're part of the group being condemned. I apologize in advance if I wasn't subtle or if I captured something in a wrong way, this is not meant to hurt anyone, only to heal. I am, of course, open to criticism and if anything I wrote here bothered anyone (I realize this is a difficult topic and it's only natural for people to react to it in different ways) I would be of course willing to discuss it.  
> That said, the next thing I write will be something straight out of a Hallmark holiday movie


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